A Bundle Of Truth & Lies
by AishaXAnderson
Summary: Their whole world was wrapped in a bundle of truth and lies. Rules were meant to be broken; Homes were made to run away from; Engagements were made to snap; A murderer was to take place; Forbidden love was to be ignited; Deaths were to be faked; Secrets were to be cherished; and a king was to be crowned. With him; a queen. [DXS AU where Danny & Sam have never met. Details inside.]
1. Author's Note

**Hiya. Well, this is my very first story and I hope you like it! No flames, please. But constructive criticism is appreciated! I would also love it if you review, and tell me what you think. I really want feedback on this story.**

**Right. Down to business: This is rated T because of mild swearing, graphic scenes, and implications/sexual content. And, this is also major Danny X Sam, and if this is not for you, I suggest you leave. **

**This is going to be a romance story… with a little bit of a psychological twist in it. And yes, this is going to be one of those 'Danny-must-now-be-crowned-the-king-of-the-Ghost-Zone' fiction, and the idea has been used a lot which shows me that it's fine to use it as long as I make sure it's my own original piece of work. **

**There are also 2 OC's in this fiction. Something many people don't like… but I believe it's high time someone else should be the main antagonist instead of Vlad or Dan for a change.**

**This story is set in America, and Amity Park shall be in New York.**

**Phantom Planet never happened; only Danny (obviously) Jazz, and Tucker know about Danny being half ghost.**

**I would also like to put a huge disclaimer right here so that I don't need to every time I upload a chapter:**

**I do not own the show or any characters of Danny Phantom. All characters mentioned belong to their respectful owners, except for my OC's. Any other references to different shows/songs/things belong to whomever they belong to, and not me. I'm just a teenager who wants to become a writer one day... not a teenager caught up in a court battle over legal rights.**

**Anyways, on to the story!**


	2. Prolouge

**A bundle of truth and lies**

**Prologue**

* * *

Black is _so _not his thing. Then again, sitting here on top of this tree watching people bundled together like penguins isn't either. How did he get up here in the first place? Doesn't matter. What matters is the fact that he can see them – all of them, dressed in black standing there. Every last one of them.

God, he hates funerals.

The fact that people just stand by and cry over a corpse just baffles him. Why would they do that? But what annoys him even more is the pending doom of a new ghost crossing into Amity – all lost and confused – and that he must send them back to the Ghost Zone before they scare the crap out of everyone else in this idiotic town.

So, no, he doesn't like funerals and the concept of them is something he doesn't fully comprehend, but you can't really blame him. He's half dead. He knows what it's like.

And so he's sitting there on top of the tree; watching; listening; hearing; what goes down below him. And it's not a pretty sight. It never is, to be honest. Cemeteries were always just a creepy place to him, with the eerie fog always looming around and how it somehow always seems a bit darker at night…

This is the place where ghosts come from. No, not the Ghost Zone… the cemeteries. This is the place where unsettled souls emerge out of their graves and seek refuge in the Zone. Then, well, they come back to haunt the living… something that seriously annoys him.

But, oddly, they haven't done that for a while. Actually, thinking about it now… they haven't done that for a really long time. He doesn't even remember the last time he had to battle a ghost.

Not even the Box ghost.

Strange.

He's snapped out of his thoughtless haze when he hears the dreadful echo of tears. Someone's yelling out, crying, and their voice is all watery.

Well, obviously there are people crying. This is a funeral. You're supposed to be sad.

But what starts to alarm him is that he sees faces… familiar faces. His mum and dad. A quick glance at himself confirms that he is in Phantom-mode, and invisible. He floats down.

Yes, it's true: Maddie and Jack Fenton are crying their eyes out at this funeral. Maddie's hair is mattered; both of them out of their hazmat suits for once; she's gripping her husband's black blazer; who is meekly rubbing her arm in reassurance. But if one were to look into Jack Fenton's eyes you would know there was anything_ but_ reassurance.

Alarm bells start to ring in Danny's head.

God, why are _they_ here?

There is also another, smaller, voice in his head asking: _Why are you here? _

But he doesn't care. It doesn't matter. What matters is that his parents are here. And their utterly heart-broken. Which could only mean…

Someone's dead.

_No shit, Sherlock_. He hears himself think. _This is a funeral. What did you expect?_

But it's different.

It's so different now.

This is a funeral of someone they _know_. Oh God… no…

He finds himself scanning the crowds. Scanning the faces, the people. He unconsciously floats higher, seeing more and the more he sees, the more he panics.

He sees Valerie for one – dressed in a long black dress with her hair in a tight bun – but feeling oddly misplaced. There is sadness in her eyes, but if you look at her face you can clearly tell she's frowning. Why? Why is she frowning?

He sees Dash, of all people, standing guiltily at one side. He sees Paulina (Also, dressed in black, but with a bit more 'fitting') and she looks sad as well. She looks incredibly awkward, standing by the side, but you can tell by the way her hands constantly wipe off tears in fear of her mascara running down her face that she's genuinely sad.

Why are all these people here?

Who died?

Panic grips his abdomen and doesn't let go. He sees more faces.

Jazz is crying hysterically; her once-braided hair now falling apart. Her eyes are scrunched up, her face a complete mess, and there's eye-liner running down her cheeks. Her black dress is loose and reaches till her toes. It looks so odd on her it's unsettling to his eyes.

And then he sees Tucker. He's wearing a black suit – complete with tie – and holding Jazz, keeping her steady. His face has a look of utter confinement, almost as if an emotionless mask was placed on top of it. But you can clearly see the unshed tears glazing his eyes.

No. No. No. Jazz… Tucker… Valerie… Dash… Paulina… Mum… Dad…

It could only mean…

Fear unlike anything he ever experienced slithers down his spine.

She's gone.

No. No way. He refused to believe it. He refuses to believe she's gone.

He can feel himself shaking. He's petrified. This can't be true.

No.

Her beautiful purple eyes, her lovely silky hair… her dazzling smile… her bravery, her hopes, her dreams… no, he refuses to accept that it's all gone.

It can't be.

He can hear his shallow breathing as he zooms forward, invisible past the crowds and to the coffin. He needs to see. He needs to know. His soul won't rest until he sees her.

And, right now, he's scared shitless to see what's over there.

The hole is already been dug, and they want to lower the coffin down. But they aren't. They are just standing there… watching. Watching what? He moves forward, and finds that it's not a _what_, but a _who_.

Relief shudders through him and his shoulders sag when he sees her round face. Shining as ever, her lips tight, her clothes comfortable and sweet, and her eyes brimmed with tears.

Sam.

She's not dead.

He wants to laugh. He wants to shoot up to the sky and make loopy-holes and laugh and smile because she isn't dead. She's still here. Still his.

But he doesn't. He doesn't laugh. He doesn't shoot up into the sky. He just stands there, and takes up the picture before him.

And what he sees almost makes him cry.

She's kneeling in front of the black rectangle and crying. Silent tears… no huge gasps of air, no big loud voices… just her tears slipping out her pretty eyes and her sleeve coming up to wipe her nose every so often.

Her left arm is in a sling.

She's hurt.

Her stomach is big and round. No, she's not fat.

She's pregnant.

Voices. Loud, loud voices in his head. _Why are you here? What are YOU doing here? WHY ARE YOU HERE?_

She gets up and shuffles backwards; and then people – people whom he doesn't know – lower the coffin under.

_What are YOU doing here?_

They start to pile up the dirt into the hole.

_What are YOU doing here?_

And then, Sam unleashes a heart-breaking sob, which echoes through the graveyard and nearly breaks his heart in pieces.

On the pale gravestone, in neat cursive handwriting, it says:

Daniel Fenton

A loving friend; Son; and hero.

The voice was quiet again now. So quiet, so small, so frail: _why are you here?_

_Because I'm dead. _He heard himself reply. _And I'm watching my own funeral._

And then, memories hit him in a rush of nauseating waves.

* * *

**Trust me, this is not what it seems.**

**There is only 1 death in this Fiction... and it's not Danny. ;)**

**Please review!**


	3. First meetings

**A bundle of truth and lies**

**Chapter 1: First meetings**

* * *

**TWO YEARS ****EARLIER**

* * *

Samantha Manson sipped her vanilla milkshake quietly, sitting on a small table in a local restaurant: Nasty Burger.

The night was getting darker and more people started to fill in, making the place seem a bit more alive. There were busy waiters, cooks calling out, and chatter of kids doing homework's, assignments, gossiping, and the occasional laughter here and there. It all seemed perfectly normal; the whole world was functioning fine.

Amity Park, New York. Not where she thought she would be when she started, but, she never really knew where she was going anyways. She just knew she needed to get out of there. And this was only a pit-stop. She wasn't going to stay here forever. She'd have to leave sooner or later… or else they'd come back looking for her.

She already learnt from her mistake in Ohio.

She checked her phone:

Missed calls: 20+

Messages: 103

Voice mail: 5

The doors opened and a group of obnoxiously loud voices started to echo through the place. Sam looked up briefly; and after seeing a Latino dressed rather 'suggestively' and a buffed blonde next to her smoking; she rolled her eyes and looked down again.

Quickly scanning through the device she found that 90% of these futile attempts to contact her were by Olivia.

Sam didn't reply her in Illinois, not in Indiana, nor in Ohio and certainly not in Pennsylvania.

And she wasn't going to reply in Amity, either.

Blinking back the tears, she shut her phone and slipped it back to her pocket.

* * *

Another dimension away, a time master sighed in exhaustion.

The clocks in his lair ticked and chimed, up in their own melody as he floated towards a clear, crystal ball in the middle of the room, seemingly suspended in air.

Clockwork knew he doesn't know the future. He knows and sees all, all that has happened and can only fathom what will happen next. He can only predict what will happen, only see what chain of events will link together and gather into a certain time-line.

The actions, the words, the things people say are all up to them. He can only see snippets of what would come, and so does his best with that. He's guessing, gambling, predicting with no solid proof.

But, needless to say, he's pretty good at what he does. He has earned a higher level of respect from all the inhabitants of the Ghost Zone and has been cherished with the responsibility of a certain Ghost kid.

A kid that even the observants couldn't take care of.

(But they'll never admit to it, obviously.)

And clockwork had been tried lately. He had been working endlessly, looking into countless timelines, gazing and watching the events unravel before him, deciding which path would be the best.

And that was his job; to see what was best for the Ghost Kid and all of the Ghost Zone, and letting time take its course, and leading it all up to the selected time-line.

Clockwork rubbed his eyes slightly as he gazed into the crystal ball.

However, there can be very few incidents where things don't fall into place. Where something unexpected happens, and the Time Master himself didn't see this event in alternative time-lines.

Highly unlikely, but still, possible.

The Ghost Zone is running chaos for the lack of ruler-ship.

It needs to be stopped.

And only the one who caused the old King' fall can claim the throne.

Danny Phantom must accept the Crown of Fire and Ring of Rage, or both their worlds would die together.

Through the crystal ball, in the current time-line, Clockwork watched as Daniel and his unusual friend meet at the park, patrolling for ghosts. Little did they know that there will be no ghosts in sight, and they will call it a night and head off to Nasty Burger; where they will meet a castaway, who will stick with them for a very, very long time.

Yet so far, everything is as it should be.

* * *

There was a significant change in the atmosphere of the restaurant now. More people were coming in, the voices were getting louder. The orders were going up.

Sam sat there quietly, sipping her milkshake, watching as the two young adults ordered their food. The Latino looked lovingly into the blonds' eyes. They seemed so young… possibly her age. Were they eighteen?

Can you even be so in love when you're so young?

She almost gagged.

So instead, she focused on the table. The short, small, round table. The bits of paint on it were flecking off. She stared at the little engravings someone had done.

She didn't pay much attention the scribbled _'T.F'_ on it. People would have thought that she was staring intently at it – questioning its existence.

But, really, she wasn't.

She was thinking. Searching. Wondering.

Wondering where her next stop will be.

* * *

"Dude, I think we should call it a night," Tucker stifled a yawn as they continued strolling along the block, Danny leisurely floating above him.

"Do you want me to fly you home?" He asked, eerily calm.

The weather was nice, refreshing almost, and the wind blowing on his hair made him feel relaxed; something he hadn't experienced in a long time. This was welcoming.

"No, no," Tucker mumbled, still walking, absorbed in his PDA. The night was getting dark, making the florescent blue hue form said device colour his face slightly.

They kept going forward; Tucker tapping away and Danny making lazy-loop holes in the air. No one was around. Everything was calm, normal, cool and collected.

Teenagers were gathering at Nasty Burger for the weekly get-one-cheese-melt-have-one-free deal. Parents were at peace alone in their homes. Old people were chattering along, going off to play bingo. A typical Friday in Amity.

No ghosts, either.

With the exception of the Box Ghost – who, by the way, was stuck in the thermos in Tucker's backpack.

Not so typical.

Nevertheless, it was nights like these that Danny enjoyed the most. Everyone up to their own thing, no one disturbing anybody else, no tension of unfinished homework or pending tests, and no ghosts to constantly kick-butt of.

So he smiled lazily, floating in the air; twisting and turning and letting the wind crease his features until he felt as if he were a helium balloon surrounded with fluffy marshmallows. Light. Soft. Weightless.

That's when Tucker's cat-like senses kicked in, and the smell of fried food miraculously reached his nostrils. He started sniffing the air.

Danny's nose crinkled. "Man, how on earth can you do that?"

"Do what?" Tucker asked, walking in the direction his nose was taking him.

"Smell meat miles away," Danny floated, following his friend.

Tucker shrugged and smiled. "Wanna head over to Nasty Burger?" He asked, "Just for old' time's sake?"

Danny snorted. "You're saying that as if we won't ever be seeing each other again," He landed softly on the ground and, after checking no ones in sight, transformed back to human.

"Well, it is only five moths until I need to go to college," Tucker hummed, slinging his arm around Danny's shoulder, leading the way to the restaurant.

"Don't remind me," Danny mumbled.

Both boys were fresh out of college, still living with their parents for now. Tucker got a scholarship to _Columbia University_, quite a few miles away from Amity. Still in travelling distance, if anyone's up for frequent road trips.

Danny, though, decided to take a gap-year and think before he tries to apply for university; much to Jazz's disapproval.

Where should he go? What should he study? Astronomy was something he loved, granted. But he needed it be someplace near Amity. Better yet, in Amity itself. And he has the ghosts to worry about.

And who on earth is going to pay for fees? He needs to get a part-time job – and fast – before his sister bursts a pipe and starts ranting on about how he needs to be more organized about the future.

And then there are his parents, wanting him to go into the paranormal sciences field, something he actually _did_ consider. He was half-ghost wasn't he? He fought ghosts on a daily-basis. He probably knew more about the paranormal than any of their reports could ever explain.

But that would arise suspicion. From his parents. Parents who, by the way, want to dissect ghosts just to understand their functioning. Suspicion is not good.

Nope, not good at all.

Then there is also the other side of his family; the one that wants him to settle down. Find a girl. Get an apartment. Get married. Get a good job. Raise a family.

But, seriously speaking. Who would ever love a person who is only half alive?

Lost in his own thoughts about the future, he carries on walking, letting Tuckers' gifted nose guide the way.

* * *

It was pretty late when both young adults entered the restaurant. The place was full of people. Orders were piling up and the clatter of clicking pens of waiters and gossiping girls filled the air.

The aroma of fresh, melted cheese hit Tucker's nose, and he breathed in deeply.

Danny looked at his friend, a bit worried that he had a love-struck expression on his face. What's up with him? Then he scans the place for a certain coca-skinned girl.

Danny knew Tucker has had a thing for Valerie for quite some time now, even though he never admits to it. He constantly tries to hook them both up, but Tucker always manages to turn down the offers and wriggle his way out of the situations Danny oh-so-cleverly planned for them.

But during his inspection he realizes that Valerie isn't here; and Tucker's just being Tucker, the distressed meat-loving kid he is.

He then looks for their table – not necessarily theirs, but they sort of claimed it as theirs, as Tucker's initials were engraved on them – and see someone already sitting on it.

Odd.

No one sits on that table at the back corner of the joint.

Tucker seems to notice this too. And he sees that not only is someone openly sitting at the corner table choosing to be anti-social, but that certain someone is actually kinda pretty.

She was sipping a milkshake, her vibrant violet eyes scanning the place like a hawk. Her hair was in a high ponytail, reaching her shoulders. She had ghostly white skin, and a black long-sleeved shirt with skin-tight midnight blue jeans. Her arm was covered in skull bracelets. She had black combat boots on.

Tucker watched in slight amusement as the pretty stranger briefly regarded Dash and Paulina on, yet another, date – and scoffed.

Tucker looked back at Danny – wanting to ask if they were going to search for another table instead – but seeing the half-grin on his face and they way his eyes brightened up, he grabbed his arm, and dragged him over to their table.

* * *

Two people – complete strangers – came and sat next to her on the table.

What even?

If she wasn't so busy thinking about things, she might have actually called classified him as hot. She might have paid attention to his messy raven hair, looking as if they were just windswept and naturally perfect. Or, his icy blue eyes… eyes that were looking intently at her. Or his shirt; and how it was tight and loose in all the right places… showing off his muscles modestly.

Or his companion, a dark skinned man who was wearing a red beret and Ray Bands glasses… holding a PDA in one hand, and waving a waitress over with another.

She decided that she should pay no mind to them, and so she just politely ignored them altogether and began fiddling with her phone to distract herself.

She was so _not_ in the mood of any pick-up lines.

She tried to see if she could hack into the Wifi; she read through some of the messages Olivia sent her… but they were too painful, so she began scrolling through her images, deleting ones she didn't want…

The other two were talking to each other, ignoring her completely. But when she felt someone's stare bore into her skin she instinctively looked up and saw those icy-blue eyes looking back at her. He blinked, embarrassed, and blushed as he looked away.

His companion laughed.

The waiter came by their table at this point, and the still-laughing stranger told them their orders. The then looked at Sam.

"Do you want anything?" He asked, with a care-free grin on his face.

She shook her head.

He looked back at the waitress and said, "That's all, ma'am,"

The waitress repeated the order, got a nod from Tucker, and scurried off.

"By the way," Tucker said to Sam, "I'm Tucker Foley. T.F for _too fine_,"

Danny groaned and banged his head against the table, as if _he_ were the one that would die of embarrassment.

Sam looked at the T.F scratched on the table, then back at Tucker, then back at Danny, and for once in the past six months, Sam genuinely smiled.

And that's how it all started.

* * *

**A huge thanks to all 4 of you that reviewed! ****And to all those that favored this story, thank you all so much. **

**You make me happy. :)**


	4. Confusing Dreams

**A bundle of truth and lies**

**Chapter 2: Confusing Dreams**

* * *

He's in a grey-void. A bottomless, senseless, uncomprehending void. He would say that he is in a room… a room full of grey walls and a grey roof and a grey floor, but there is no roof, and no floor, and no walls, either… it's just an endless void of grey.

He looks up and he can't see where this place will end, and he looks down and he realizes he's floating – there is no ground – and the whole world is an endless mass of grey stretched out before him, making no sense.

And, weirdly, Danny was at ease in this place.

"It's an odd color, isn't it?" A voice behind him spoke.

He spun around, and faced his mentor – Clockwork. Floating in the air just like him… in this void of grayness.

"Where are we?" Danny whispered.

The time master stared at him, his face expressionless, his red eyes were twinkling. "Odd, isn't it?" He repeated.

Danny looked around him; above him; below him; behind him; and all he saw was an endless mass of the neutral color.

"Very," Danny agreed, feeling slightly sick by turning around and twisting so much.

But grey was a weird color. The perfect mesh between the good and the bad, the light and the dark, the black and white. You never know what to feel when you stare at grey. Calm? Sad? Happy? He doesn't know.

Clockwork observed the perturbed teen, looking dazed and lost. Inwardly, he almost felt sorry for what was about to come, but he knew that there was no other way to do this.

The time masters voice echoed slightly when he asked, "If you had to choose between your child's life or a complete stranger's… who would you save?"

A deeply confused Danny stared into his Mentor's eyes.

"Aren't we done with the riddles thing?" He asked, "Can't you just _tell me_ what's up?"

Clockwork game him _the_ look. The look that said: I-am-not-going-over-this-again-you-already-know-why-I-can't-tell-you-stuff-like-this.

Danny shrugged helplessly. "Both,"

For a few seconds, nothing happened. The other ghost said nothing, and Danny floated in the air waiting for a response.

But there was none to come.

The gray void crumpled, it crinkled and cracked… and black started to swim through… covering the endless mass getting closer… closer…

"But you won't be able to save both," Clockwork said, undisturbed by the change in the atmosphere.

Danny, on the other hand, was. The blackness was getting closer… closing in on them… it was close now… he was unconsciously floating towards his Mentor.

"Why?" He asked, "Why can't I save both?"

It was travelling closer… closer…

"Because you will only be able to stay with one,"

The void was black now. There was no grey in sight.

"Why does the other have to die?"

"Everyone will die at some point in their lives,"

"But I could have saved them," Danny said in a quiet voice.

The void came on him too; the blackness covered him, the black cracking his skin and pulling him with an unseen force. He called out; waved his hands to gasp anything tangible; kicked and shoved his legs; but it was too late. The black had caught him.

Then, only darkness.

* * *

"Weird," Tucker commented, fiddling around with his PDA. "Anything else?"

"Well, then the place turned black… and it kinda pulled me into itself… I don't know – Stop looking at me like that – and then I woke up," Danny summarized, kicking a lone pebble on the floor.

"And, since when have you been having these types of dreams?" Tucker asked, still typing.

"A week,"

Tucker grunted.

They were currently walking leisurely in the park, wondering what to do with themselves. The weather was nice, not damp or stuffy – but the clouds were darkening signaling rain was to come. The calm before the storm.

"So, Clockwork asked you a question, you answered, and the atmosphere just sucked you in?" Tucker asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Danny sighed his confirmation. "What do you think it means?"

"I don't know yet, but some things are adding up…" Tucker trailed, looking at the previous notes he made on his friends' dreams.

"Hey!" Danny exclaimed, his blue eyes bright, "Sam's here!"

"Who?"

"The girl we met at Nasty Burger, remember?"

Tucker smiled to himself. How could he forget? His best friend couldn't take his eyes off her…

And indeed, there she was: Sam. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, her eyes tired. She was wearing a black shirt with a purple cardigan, combat boots, and black skinny jeans. She was fiddling with her phone, walking aimlessly ahead.

Before Tucker could do anything, Danny was already waving his hand in the air and yelling out to her.

Sam looked up – startled at first – and then recognition fitted her features. She gave a small smile as she walked over, pocketing her phone out of sight.

"Hello," She greeted them.

"How are you enjoying Amity, then?" Tucker asked, starting the conversation.

They didn't know much about Sam: Just the fact that she was a hardcore Goth; her name was Samantha but you shall only call her Sam if you don't want a bruised shin; she came to Amity a few days ago; and, after a debate over animal abuse and meat in Nasty Burger, she was an Ultro-Recyclo-Vegitarian. Whatever the hell that means.

Sam shrugged. "It's okay. I mean, there isn't much to do, but it's peaceful, in its own weird way,"

An idea popped into Danny's head. "The mall is just a few blocks down," He said, "Most people will be there. Want to see what humans of Amity Park are up to?"

Sam smiled at him. "Sure,"

* * *

Okay, she isn't going to hide the fact: She's worried. "Is he usually like this?" She whispered to Danny, who just laughed.

Tucker had been staring at the device on display for the past then minutes. He made no movement, no sound, no _nothing_, and it was staring to freak her out. He was just… staring at it, his eyes transfixed on it. Whatever _it_ was.

"Should we, like, drag him away or something?" She asked. Danny just shook his head.

"He'll realize sooner or later that we ditched him," He said confidently, slowly walking away, Sam following.

And Danny was right: The mall was buzzing with people. There were kids craning their hands in sweet shops, Mothers frantically buying the groceries, couples having a coffee in the café, teenagers just chilling… being teenagers.

And she heard a familiar Latino accent up ahead. She saw the same girl next to the blond he saw on her first day here.

"That's Dash and Paulina," Danny said, nodding his head in their direction when he followed her line of vision, "Casper High's most popular couple. Surprisingly, they stayed together ever after high-school,"

"Did you expect them to split-up?"

He shrugged. "I think everyone did, to be honest. Paulina likes someone else a bit more,"

Sam regarded the girl. The way she moved, sashaying her hips everywhere, the way she addressed people, as if they were nothing… she didn't like it.

She made a soft noise of disgust in the back of her throat. "So, if he knows that she likes someone else, why are they still together?"

For some weird reason, Danny started to blush. Sam saw the way his cheeks heated up and couldn't help but notice how cute he looked. Then she mentally throttled herself for even thinking that. _Get a grip, Manson! _

"Well, you see, it's more of an obsession for her," He said.

"Obsession?" Sam inquired, placing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Danny watched this action with a slight smile.

"Uh, yeah – Amity's a bit famous for ghosts, you see… and she has a crush on a ghost called Phantom,"

Sam nodded slowly. She'd heard of the ghost attacks in Amity. She had yet to witness one.

But the concept of the idea was totally bizarre. Who would have a crush on a ghost?

If Sam had been dreaming, she would have considered the slightly ghostly echo in Danny's voice when he asked, "Do you believe in ghosts?"

Sam shrugged. Truthfully, she had no idea. "I haven't seen one," She stated quite simply.

"Do you think you'll ever be able to believe in ghosts?" He pressed. He didn't know why, but he just really wanted her opinion on this topic.

Sam was about to answer but a shriek was heard. Craning their heads, they both saw a very anguished-looking Paulina _yelling_ in Spanish and waving her phone around in the air.

Tucker came jogging up to them, laughing. "This is what happens if you leave me behind," He said, "You miss out on all the fun,"

Danny groaned, and looked up to the ceiling as if to say, _God help me_, and asked in a strained voice, "What did you do now?"

Tucker beamed. "I might have hacked into her laptop at some point and posted a few embarrassing pictures online,"

"You did what?!" Danny exclaimed, alarmed.

The look on his face was so priceless, that Sam began to laugh. It was a short, genuine sweet sound, which sounded like honey to Danny's ears.

* * *

Sam discovered the library a few days after the guys had shown her the mall. It was a relatively small and quiet place. It was great for thinking.

So she wandered down the aisle, letting her hand rub on the spines of books upon books upon books, and walked on, inhaling the smell of fresh paper and ink deeply.

She pulled out one she read when she was little, _Goodnight Mister Tom_, just for old times' sake, and wanted to sit down one of the many bean-bags that were scattered in the place – when she bumped into someone, dropping her book.

"Oh! Sorry," The victim murmured, picking up the book and handing it to her. She was a thin, tall young lady with orange hair and teal eyes.

Sam took the book from her and noticed that she was carrying a lot of psychology books in her arm.

"I'm Jazz," She said, extending her hand out to her.

"Sam." She replied, shaking the older girl's hand. Her grip was gentle yet firm.

"Oh," Jazz said. So this is who her little brother had been hanging out with lately… She'd only heard about her... she had yet to see her face to face...

Smiling inwardly, she decided to do a little examining. "May I ask you a question?"

Sam eyed the psychology books in her hands, and then glared at her. "If you by any chance think I am in need of mental help, I can assure you I am perfectly sane,"

Jazz laughed, and Sam relaxed somewhat. "No, no," She giggled, "Just a question,"

"Sure,"

"Okay. So, if you had to choose between your child's life or a complete stranger's, who would you save?" Or, at least that was more-or-less the question Danny had been asked. He'd told her about his unusual dream and Jazz was working endlessly to try and figure out what it meant. What would Sam reply to it?

Said girl was taken aback. She didn't expect that. So she said what came to her mind, "Why?"

Jazz sighed somewhat annoyed by not getting the response she wanted. "Didn't you know it's rude to answer a question with another question?"

"Why do you ask?" Sam smiled, and walked away to another aisle, plopping down on a bean-bag. Jazz stood there, dumbfounded, she huffed and walked away.

Sitting quietly at the back and laughing silently at the scene in front of him, was a certain raven haired boy with blue eyes.

* * *

Sam stared blankly at the door in front of her.

What was she doing?

That is a question indeed.

She's been in Amity for a whole month now.

_A month_.

She's not supposed to stay long! She's on the run. She can't stay in one place.

She needs to get out of here.

And that's what she thought she was doing, yesterday night; packing her bags and checking out of the hotel, going back to her car and starting the engine…

But now she's here instead. Still in Amity.

She fiddled with the newly-bought keys in her hand.

Sam never expected to stay in Amity for so long. And even though she knew that staying here was going to be another big mistake, one that she would regret later on, she didn't care.

Here, she met people.

Here, she made friends.

Here… she gets a sense of being oddly… free.

And that's why she ran away from home in the first place, right? To get her freedom back, to regain her independency. No more rules. No more _do this_, and _do that's_.

What was she thinking? That she'll be on the run forever? That's not going to happen. She needs to settle down eventually.

Sighing, she griped her suitcase with one hand, raised the key with the other, and unlocked her new apartment for the first time.

* * *

Danny smiled to himself as she flew invisible in the sky; patrolling again. This time alone, without Tucker.

He's being doing that a lot now: Smiling.

Ever since Sam walked into his life. And he knows it sounds completely cheesy… but he's head over heels for that girl. From the moment he saw her in Nasty Burger, sipping on her milkshake, from the moment they exchanged phone numbers, from the moment she became their friend.

The duo now became a trio.

And even though he's only been friends with her for a month, it's almost as if he were here his whole lifetime. He can magically read her like an open book, and vise versa.

What he also loves about her is her passion for things – when she starts talking about Animal rights… God, you should see how her eyes light up, and she starts rambling…

It's the cutest thing in the world.

So, yes, Sam may just be another crush of Daniel Fenton's…

The only problem was that she didn't know a thing about his ghost side…

And no ghosts had showed up ever since she came… making her belief in ghosts a negative fifty.

But he still smiled, and floated, and let the wind crease him, do its own thing because he had time. He knew that now: He had time to do a lot of things. He had time before he settled down. He had time before he tells Sam about his dual identity. If he tells her at all, that is… he's been thinking that maybe he should just-

And that's when he heard the scream slice through the night.

* * *

**Things are finally getting interesting. **

**Anyways, please review and tell me what you think! :)**


	5. Burning

**A bundle of truth and lies**

**Chapter 3: Burning**

* * *

Sam huffed and got out of bed. Seriously!? Who would be making so much noise?

It. Is. The. Middle. Of. The. Night.

Padding her way over to her window, she glanced at the clock.

2:03 AM.

Anger pulses through her veins and she swears if it's just kids playing outside making that entire ruckus then _she will deal with this personally_. She practically growled as she yanked the black curtains back.

And only gasped in shock.

There was a cloud of black smoke escalating upwards… with the vivid orange and red flames liking the air above and making the cloud rise higher. The walls were already black – covered in soot – and creaking – one window was smashed… and inside, waving frantically for help, was a red-faced, crying little girl.

The house across her street was on fire.

And someone – no, an innocent child, was trapped in there.

Who, by the way, decided to give a blood-curdling scream that must have awoken the neighborhood by now.

There are no ambulances or fire engines in sight.

Shit.

It was total of three seconds where Sam just gazed at the disaster in shock.

Oh, shit.

It took her another second, and a few curses, to slip her feet clumsily into her boots and hastily grab a cardigan to cover her PJ's.

Shit. Shit.

It took her another millisecond to slam her apartment door and jog downstairs.

Oh crap. _Where the hell is everybody?_

And two seconds later, Sam Manson was running down the road towards the burning house.

Sirens started to follow soon after.

* * *

This is not a ghost attack.

That's the first thing that popped into his mind, for the scream was of terror and fear – something the people of Amity have slacked on since being acquainted with so many ghosts – and, well, his ghost sense didn't go off.

So, no, this is not a ghost attack.

This is something bigger.

And as he flies through the city, his neon green eyes are scanning the whole town in record-speed. But he didn't need to look too long; the smoke was raising up high enough for people in different blocks to question.

Danny zoomed forward, and just as he did so, he saw ambulances zip past him and the faint sirens echo through the night.

But it was all muffled, because right there – in front of his blazing eyes, was a very determined looking Sam Manson running into a burning house.

Danny could only stop and stare in shock at what was happening.

The fire-fighters were here now, yelling over each other to be heard against the roar of the flames. And though all this commotion, as Danny flew past them and into the house, he couldn't help but think, '_this girl clearly has a death wish.'_

* * *

She didn't even think when she flipped the door open; all she knew was that she was going to go in there, and she was going to get that little girl out.

So, she wasn't prepared for the black cloud of smoke to come forcefully in her face, making her cough and wheeze by inhaling it. By instinct she waved her hand in front of her – trying to make the fumes go in another direction – while covering her nose and mouth.

Once she decided she had enough oxygen in her body, she stepped inside.

* * *

His tiny hands wrapped around her arm willing her to wake up. She stopped talking a while ago… she was comforting him, telling him that it will be okay… but then, then she started crying hysterically. Maybe she realized that the situation just wasn't okay, and that they were doomed.

Either way, he never saw her sister cry like that. Ever. And then, she screamed. He didn't know why, out of desperation, or the fact that no one seemed to care? He didn't know, but she screamed so loud it scared him, and then she just slumped on the side of the dresser that was black with soot.

A ringing silence followed.

The flames were licking the room, cracking every so often. His eyes were watery and his grip on her hand was going loose. He was struggling to breathe, and there was no one out there. No one in sight.

He's never been so terrified in all his life.

He couldn't get up on his own legs. His right ankle was twisted in an unnatural angle.

So he tried, he opened his mouth to yell; to scream; to shout, but he only inhaled another gulp of carbon emissions, and went into a coughing fit that had the water in his eyes spill out. His throat was burning.

A weak, broken, "Help," escaped his lips.

It was a complete miracle from God when the jammed door was kicked down. Later, if you were to ask the little kid, he couldn't give you a proper description of his savior; his eyes were too watery (again) to see the figure clearly.

It was coughing. Whoever it was, they were stumbling towards them. He got a glimpse of black hair, and black boots.

The stranger's warm hands gripped under his armpits and swiftly lifted him up. His injured foot gazed at the person's knee and pain shot up his leg. He grimaced, closing his eyes.

"Shit, there are two of you," A feminine voice said.

So this was a girl.

The little boy knew that they were running out of time. Smoke was clouding the room and this person, no; this hero, could only carry one kid back out before the whole house collapses. She needed to decide quickly.

The fire was growing intense. Heat was closing in on them. He was starting to sweat.

The little girl was slumped under the dresser. Her eyes were closed and her arm was draped with a shawl. Her skin was very pale.

With a sinking heart he thought that it was too late for his sister.

Orange and red consumed all sides of the room, turning the wooden interior black, and cracking in places. Small chips of the ceiling were falling.

But the person's whose arms he was in; was still thinking. They couldn't leave his sister here, can they?

But he wanted to. He didn't want to see her lifeless body anymore.

It hurt too much.

No, but the stranger was looking for something else.

She found was she was looking for, a small rise and fall of a chest, because she said two words that raised his spirits to the roof.

"She's breathing,"

* * *

When he phased into the room, through the pale green light from his eyes, the first thing he noticed in the smoke was how the mirror on top of the dresser slipped on one corner.

Then, in only a second, it heaved under and fell.

Thanks to instinct, he quickly grabbed the body of a kid under it and turned them both intangible – out of harm's way.

The others, however, weren't so lucky.

Sam's first instinct was to turn, making her shoulder face the toppling glass and bringing a hand up to secure the little boy's head in the nape of her neck.

But when the glass shattered and cracked on her arm, and as the sting of the glass piercing her skin seeped to her, she instantly regretted wearing a thin cardigan.

She gave a muffled cry.

And Danny wasted no time. He grabbed the limp body of the girl and hurled her over his shoulder and gabbed Sam – who was holding the little boy - by the knees and cradled her. He ignored her shock and panic and the way she kicked and demanded to be let go and took off into the air.

She screamed.

Sam couldn't gather her thoughts. One second she was experiencing severe pain shooting through her arm and the next she _levitates_ off the ground.

She's dead. Oh God, she's probably dead.

She screams.

But she doesn't levitate off the ground. There are secure hands holing her as they zoom forward to the… wall?

She screams again.

A cold shiver passes through her body. Her eyes were closed, and this mysterious feeling grips her and she can only freeze in shock. But when she opens her eyes again, she isn't the burning house. She on the other side of the scorched all, descending to the ground.

She whips her head around.

White hair. Neon green eyes. Hella handsome face. Weird glow emitting from body.

Ghost.

And for the third time in the past five minutes, she screamed.

* * *

He was gone in a flash. One second, he was there, standing behind her – holding her.

Then, the next, he wasn't. She was sitting on the ground on her bottom, as the little boy passes out in her arms. The other little girl is sprawled on her side.

A crowd was with her in a few seconds. There were fire-fighters, nurses and aid, and the neighbors crowding over her and the kids. They were all asking questions and talking at the same time. Her head was spinning.

"Get the stretcher!" "Miss, are you okay?" "Is this kid yours?" "Nurse!" "Don't you live down the street?" "What were you doing in there?" "I saw you run into the house! Are you mad!?" "This one's unconscious!" "Nurse! _What the hell is taking so long_?" "Miss, you are hurt!" "That gash looks deep," "Ouch, that was my foot," "Oh, sorry, that didn't hurt, did it?"

She wasn't even listening. They were all tuned out.

She was looking for someone else, someone with neon eyes and white hair.

* * *

She could only squeeze her fists rather helplessly in her black hoodie pockets as she stood in the tiny corner of the room that didn't have anything on it.

There were wrappers of burgers and crisps everywhere, with the occasional tee-shirt here and there. The walls were covered with tech-stuff, papers of equations and notes all over the place. The only place seemly neat was the table at the very back – covered by a computer, printer, and a stack of PDA's neatly set aside. On top of the bed; was a huge, open…suitcase?

Seeing her expression, a mix of bewilderment and disgust, he just shrugged and said, "I started packing,"

Samantha Manson knew a lot of things. What she didn't know, though, was that people would actually need more than three months to pack. And, judging by the way Tucker easily flopped down on the couch and completely disregarded the scattered tee-shit and sock by his feet, it looks like he'll _need_ three months to pack.

Maybe even more.

"How are you going to survive college?" She wondered, maneuvering herself to the couch next to him.

"Same way he survived high-school," A new voice joined the conversation. Turning her head, she saw Danny – in all his pride and glory – making his way towards them.

"How'd you get in here?"

He froze for a millisecond, then hesitantly shrugged. "Back door?" he offered. It seemed more like a question rather than a statement.

She rolled her eyes. "This is an _apartment_, Daniel. It doesn't have a back-door."

He shrugged and tried to look as if he didn't care as he sat down meekly on the couch – but the hand rubbing the back of his neck told them otherwise.

Trying to get Sam's attention, Tucker asked, "How good are you at _Doomed_?"

Sam, in turn, grinned. "About as good as you'll ever be," And as Tucker passed her the second controller, she made a mental note on how Danny's shoulders suddenly relaxed when they got off the topic.

But during the course of the evening and the events that happened during that time, mainly being; the way Tucker's jaw feel open when Sam beat him the fifth time in Doomed; Danny laughing his ass off at Tucker's complaints that somehow Sam was cheating; Tucker huffing and going into the kitchen to sulk and get some chips; Danny and Sam having a match in which, unsurprisingly, Sam wins; she forgets all about her little mental note.

When Tucker flops back on the couch with sandwiches, and elbows Sam in the arm for not eating any proper food, she winces and immediately grips the sore area.

Something that both Danny and Tucker notice. She quickly pulls her sleeve to cover her hand and curls a fist in it to hide the pain.

"Come on, I didn't elbow you_ that_ hard!" He joked.

But Danny knows something he doesn't. "You okay?" He asks gently, sitting up and trying to look at her arm. "It doesn't hurt does it?"

Now, don't get her wrong, but Sam isn't someone who enjoys a lot of attention. Especially if it's to something she doesn't want anybody to know about. No, she didn't tell the guys about my-neighbors-house-was-on-fire incident, and she doesn't plan to.

Because if she does, she would need to explain how a _ghost_ came and helped her.

And she didn't want to talk about that, or how_ it _helped, or ghosts in general.

She didn't want to accept the fact that she'd seen a ghost.

She didn't want to accept the fact that her life was saved by a ghost.

She didn't want to accept the fact that she might be in debt to a person who is already, well, dead.

So she did the only thing she could think of to rid herself of this conversation: leave.

"Well, it was a nice day," She said, getting up and grabbing her phone from the coffee table. "Thanks for having me over Tuck," She walked briskly to the door.

"Hey! Wait! I'm sorry! _I didn't mean to hit you that hard_!" He tried yelling, but was only greeted with the door being slammed on her way out.

He turned to Danny. "What was all _that_ about?"

But Danny didn't reply.

Because Danny wasn't there.

He already disappeared.

* * *

**I think this was prolonged. **

**Please review. :3**


	6. Sneaking Out

**A bundle of truth and lies**

**Chapter 4: Sneaking about**

* * *

She started running once she exited Tucker's building. It didn't surprise her that the sky was pitch black – they spent quite a lot of time in the house – but what did surprise her was the adrenaline rush that seemed to course through her body that willed her to go on. So she zipped past the street, letting her heart race with all its content.

It's funny, because when she first started jogging off towards her apartment, she thought she was going to go straight to her room and check if the wound opened up again. The paramedics yesterday did a good job, bandaged her up and asked her politely if she wants to go to the hospital to have it checked (to which she declined the offer) But she had to gobble down a few painkillers before going to bed.

But by the time she reached her block the frigid air had already numbed the throb, and the wind kept swaying her hair soothingly. She didn't want to go inside. So, deciding to take a detour, she went and explored a bit. There was no harm in that, as no one seemed to be in the streets. Her boots were clanking on the pavement, with the breeze cool and calm.

She didn't know where she was going, but she soon found out. There was a rusted gate, barely attached to its hinges, creaking when the wind swept past. It was out of place, but connecting to both its sides were fences. Silver fences that were rusted and covered by ivy plants that twirled and coiled themselves around the poles that kept the people out. It was old, and deserted. The expense behind it was dark, and she couldn't make out what was there – that is, _if_ something was there in the first place.

A perfect place for solitude.

She stopped jogging and calmly walked towards the gate and tried to push it aside. But the gate wouldn't budge. Determined, she shoved a little harder, only to take a sharp intake of breath as pain prickled through her arm. To her luck, the gate shuddered and groaned as if it were revived, and creaked as Sam opened it up for her to just slip through.

Her curiosity about this abandoned area was greater than the throb in her arm, as she hesitantly took a few steps into the expense of untamed grass and land. There was nothing here, she realized with slight disappointment. She didn't know what to expect… but dare she say at least it should have been a bit more exciting than bushes and overgrown and untamed weeds.

But solitude is what she decided to have and solitude is what she was going to get.

He boots crunched leaves and snapped twigs as she walked deeper into the outpost of land that didn't seem to end. She was surprised that so much land was just… left there, discarded as if it didn't belong to anyone. It was slightly eerie to say the least.

There was a chill in the air that made her tug at her hoddie and cave into it to seek warmth. From the corner of her eye, she caught a sliver glint of something. Cautiously truing her head, she was surprised to see an abandoned swing set.

Weird.

There were two swings, creaking every so softly by the wind. The silver chain that held the swings together was glinting by the moonlight. Enchanted, Sam walked over and – checking to see if the swing was stable enough to carry her weight – she sat down on it, giving a shuddering creak that made crows squawk with surprise and fly off to find other trees.

It was odd, sitting there on a swing-set on a patch of barren land that seemed devoid of any life.

She then smiled.

Solitude at last.

"Hey," A voice with an un-earthy echo said right next to her.

She yelped and whirled around to see who it was, but the swings' chain crossed-over and twisted so suddenly she lost her balance and fell to the ground with a very un-lady-like '_Oof_'.

So much for solitude.

* * *

Now, don't get him wrong, Tucker isn't one who likes to meddle in other's businesses. But he knew for a fact that Danny liked Sam, even though he might not be aware of it yet. That and that he left as soon as she did, certainly following her ghost-mode like some weird obsession. He shuddered.

Going up to the TV and switching it off, he sighed sadly knowing he would never be able to tell Danny that he knew about his not-so-obvious crush. Glancing up he read that it was almost nine o'clock. He threw the game controller on the couch and scrambled for his phone.

His phone started ringing, and he answered it without missing a beat.

"That was quick," The female voice on the other end said.

"I was expecting the call." He replied, making his way to his bedroom where the open suitcase and scattered mass of clothes lay.

"He came through. Found something he said we can help him with,"

Tucker grunted and slinged a pre-prepared bag of clothes and supplies on his shoulder. "Where are we supposed to meet again?"

"The broken down Motel that's a few miles from the city. Bring your stuff,"

"Yeah. Got it," He said, grabbing his keys and exiting his apartment. "He didn't… um, he didn't do anything, did he?" He half-whispered, locking his apartment once he was outside.

The voice on the other end gave a disgusted snort. "No. Kept himself to himself for now. Hurry Tucker,"

He tensed slightly when she said this. "I'll be there as soon as I can," He promised her, exiting his building. "But you have to call me as soon as he tries anything, okay Jazz?"

But the line went dead.

Tucker cursed, and ran to his car.

* * *

Her palms and knees were stinging by the impact, and she whirled around with her eyes already set in a glare and her mouth moving to ask how the hell did he get here, but when she saw who it was her eyes went wide and only a tiny squeak came out from her throat.

His shocking white hair was swaying slightly by the breeze and his neon green eyes were staring at her with such concern she felt her cheeks warm up. Yep, this was him. The ghost that saved her.

Question is: what the hell was he doing here following her around?

"How's your arm?" He asked, and she was surprised to hear his voice sounding so calm and soothing. It was weird, as it had a slight echo, but soothing nonetheless.

She shrugged and tried to play it cool. Truth is; her arm was throbbing restlessly as soon as she entered this area. But she wasn't going to tell him that. As if to prove her point, she reached out and grabbed hold of her swing, lifting herself on top of it once again. She grimaced slightly, but masked her pain well.

First things first: "Who are you?" She asked him, unable to keep the wonder from her voice.

Faint green rose up to his cheeks in a form of a blush. "Uh, I'm Danny. Danny Phantom," He stuttered, giving her a nervous smile.

"_Well, you see, it's more of an obsession for her," He said._

"_Obsession?" Sam enquired, placing a loose strand of hair behind her ear._

"_Uh, yeah – Amity's a bit famous for ghosts, you see… and she has a crush on a ghost called Phantom,"_

_Sam nodded slowly._

But now she understood; the way the light danced in his eyes; his easy to go loop-sided grin; the way his white hair gave him a ragged, messy out-of-bed look; he certainly was pretty handsome.

"I'm Sam Manson," She said, and stretched her hand out for him to shake.

Danny was slightly shocked to hear her say her last name. She never mentioned her last name to him before in human form. In fact… she didn't mention anything at all from her past…

Didn't she trust them enough to tell them? Or is it that she just felt giving personal information out to random ghosts wouldn't harm her?

Her hand felt cold as a tingle traveled up her spine as he shook it. She glanced back at him, and blinked at the sheer vivid color of his eyes.

"So, Sam," He said, intrigued by the way her eyes blinked when he said her name. "What possessed you to pull off a stunt like that?"

Sam bit her lip, thinking about what she felt when she saw the burning building from her window. She shrugged – and winced slightly – as she contemplated. "I just knew that I had to do_ something_, anything. I couldn't just stand there and watch, you know?"

Neon eyes stared at her wordlessly. She started kicking her legs slightly, wanting a distraction. She genuinely wanted to know what he was thinking, and that was saying something, especially since she never cared about other's opinions.

But alas, he did speak, in a soft whisper, "Yeah. I know,"

They sat in awkward silence for a while.

Sam stopped kicking her legs when a cool breeze brushed past her, the wind playing with her hair. She gave a half-smile, and could have sworn Phantom was smiling too.

But when she turned to look at him his face had a serious, sober expression. "You could have gotten killed, you know. You were in there too long, your lungs could have been infected; You could have been seriously hurt if the dresser-"

"Why did you do that, anyways?" Sam cut him off. "Why did you save the little girl? And me?"

He wanted to tell her that it was his responsibility – the fact that he was the only one who had the power to help the people of this city. But he didn't. He just stared into those violet orbs that were absorbing all his thoughts and ability to think coherently.

"Same reason you did," He found himself replying lamely, "I couldn't stand there and watch,"

She nodded, and this time smiled at him. "Well, then," She blushed slightly. "Thanks, Phantom."

She watched in amusement as he blushed too. "No problem, Manson."

He watched with a raised eye-brow how all amusement was wiped off her face. She turned her head and swallowed.

What, she didn't like her last name or something?

He didn't know much about this girl, and he was stunned by the amount of building curiosity that was in him that wanted him to solve this enigma.

Wanted a change in topics, he said, "So, uh, how long have you been in Amity?"

"A few months."

"Do you like it so far?"

She gave a faint smile, and he secretly rejoiced. "More than I'd like to admit to myself," She turned to him again. "And you? How long have you been here?"

"Quite some time. A couple of years."

Sam regarded the boy. He seems to be her age… and if he was here for some time, then, he must have been pretty young when he died. A rush of sadness swelled and washed upon her.

Danny shrugged, and surprised himself by admitting something he never did to anyone. (Not even Tucker or Jazz – and they were the closest people to him.) "It get's kinda' lonely at times,"

Sam regarded the boy with a broken expression. She felt genuine sadness for the lonesome creature. In the back of her mind, though, she scoffed. _Look at yourself! You feel pity for a ghost! _

But who wouldn't? She'd argue. Just look at him. He's so innocent.

"I'm always here, you know," She said, surprising the ghost even further. "You can always talk to me. I haven't been open to anyone in a while,"

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I've been closing myself off from a lot of people. It would be good to know that there is someone who I can talk to when I need to," She smiled.

Green eyes gazed at her and smiled a grin that made her heart quicken. He blinked and shook his head, slightly. He couldn't believe it. This girl was something special. She was so selfless – putting her own life in danger, and didn't once boast about it to his human form. Or Tucker. And she was so caring, offering to help a ghost she didn't even know very well.

"I might just take you up on that offer," He declared, winking at her.

She laughed.

But Danny couldn't help think about how open she was being with him. Was it just because she was Goth and was attracted to supernatural? She told him her last name… something she was very edgy about. She even confessed that she had shut herself out from people.

What was causing the sudden change of heart?

So many questions…

But this whizzing thoughts came to a halt when something dripped onto the grass; and a metallic smell reached his nostrils. Green eyes widened with realization.

Blood.

"Your arm!" Danny exclaimed, eyes wide with worry.

Sam turned her attention to the now-soaked sleeve of her black hoodie. Crap, the wounds must have re-opened. They both stood simultaneously.

"Here, I can help," Phantom offered a gloved hand towards her, but Sam took a step back. She turned her attention to her sleeve and pulled it up gently, ignoring the hurt look that came over Phantom's face and vanished before she could register it.

The gauze she wrapped around her arm was now a dark red. She hissed as she tried to untie it.

Phantom reached over – and ignoring her slight protest – he put a gloved hand flush on her gauze.

Sam felt a tingle and then a searing cold shoot up in her arm, shaking every nerve in her body. She was about to give a pained shriek but then a numbness over settled, her arm cold and heavy.

"What-" She began, but was cut off when he removed his hand, his glove stained with red.

"Ice-powers." He stated, "I use them to numb my wounds sometimes. You should get that checked,"

She swallowed. "Thank you,"

He gave her that grin again. "No problem," He whispered, and with a gush of cold air, disappeared.

* * *

There was a skip in her step as she went back to her apartment, something that very much annoyed her.

Goth's aren't supposed to skip.

Or hum.

Or be this happy in general.

When she reached her door, she slipped out her keys as usual. She opened her lock with a soft click, as usual. She took a step and heard her shoes crumple paper… not like the usual.

There was a small envelope on the floor.

She scooped it up, closed the door, and opened it to read in a curled handwriting that was most definitely not a child's:

_Kind Neighbor,_

_Thank you for saving us. We are in the hospital down the block. We would like to see you again. Please come visit us._

_Thanks again,  
Jane &amp; Peter._

The smile on her face instantly fell. No, no this wouldn't do. Someone obviously wrote this letter for the children. A parent, most likely. And that parent must have told the police… and the last thing she needed was a meeting with them.

She was a runaway. They would immediately recognize her and send her back.

And if she didn't show up? What then? Will they send the police to come look for her? What if they have their suspicions? What if they think that _she_ started the fire?

With a sinking heart, she realized that she might need to leave Amity once and for all.

* * *

**I still don't know if I should make Tucker &amp; Jazz a side-pairing in this story. Tell me what you think, should I?**


End file.
